Scarlett Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by Luv.ForEver.Hp
Summary: Scarlett Potter is Harry Potter's twin sister. What happens when they discover they aren't has normal has they believed and finally get to escape the Dursley's? Follow the Potter twins in the first year at Hogwarts!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, this is my first story! Let me know what you think. No flames please! Only constructive criticism.**

**Declaimer: J. owns Harry Potter (sadly)**

**Chapter One: The Children Who Lived**

It was nearly midnight in Privet Drive when a sudden movement accrued at the end of the street. There stood a strange looking man, that looked to have appeared out of nowhere.

He was tall, thin and very old man with long silver hair and beard. He wore a long robe matched with a purple cloak. His light blue eyes were framed by half moon glasses, held on his long crooked nose. Everything about him was unwelcome her on this cookie cutter street.

But he was too busy looking through his cloak for something, in tell he felt a pair of eyes watching him. He looked up to see a cat sitting across the street watching and unmoving. This seemed to amuse him and muttered

"I should have known." with a chuckle.

He finally found what he was looking for and held out a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open and clicked it and the nearest street lamp went out with a pop. He did this twelve more times and placed the lighter back in his cloak, then made his way towards were the tabby cat sat in the now dark street. They sat in silence for a moment in tell he spoke.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall."

He turned to see a severe-looking woman sitting were the cat had been moments ago. She was also wearing a cloak – emerald green – with square glasses and her black hair pulled back in a tight bun.

"How did you know it was me?" she asked.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.

"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.

"Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no - even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursley's dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars... well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent - I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for elven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours,"She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really _has _gone, Dumbledore?"

"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. " we have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A _what?_"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think that this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who _has_ gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense - for elven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: _Voldemort."_Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to noticed. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I never have seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."

"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, alright, _Voldemort, _was frightened of."

"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."

"Only because you're too - well _noble_ to use them."

"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."Professor McGonagall short a sharp look at Dumbledore and said,

"The owls are nothing next to the rumoursthat are flying around. You know what they're saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she wast most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, had wall all day, for neither as a cat nor a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true.

Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.

"What they're _saying,_" she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are - are - that they're - _ dead" _

Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.

"Lily and James... I can't believe it... I don't want to believe it... oh, Albus..."Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder.

"I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on.

"That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's children, Harry and Scarlett .But he couldn't. He couldn't kill those little kids. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry and Scarlett Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke - and that's why he's gone."

Dumbledore nodded glumly.

"It's - it's _true_?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill these children? It's just astounding... of all things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry and Scarlett survive?"

"We can only guess." said Dumbledore. "We may never know."

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it.

It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers, instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said,

"Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"

"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you're here, of all places?"

"I've come to bring Harry and Scarlett to their aunt and uncle. They're the only family they have left now."

"You don't mean - you _can't_ mean the people who live _here_?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry and Scarlett Potter come and live here!"

"It's the best place for them," said Dumbledore firmly. "Their aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to them when their older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?These people will never understand them! They'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry and Scarlett Potter day in the future - there will be books written about Harry and Scarlett - every child in our world will know their name!"

"Exactly." said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any child's head. Famous before they can walk and talk! Famous for something they won't even remember! Can you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until their ready to take it?"

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes - yes, you're right, of course. But how are the children getting here, Dumbledore?"

She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry and Scarlett underneath it."

Hagrid's bringing them."

"You think it - _wise_ - to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.

"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can;t pretend he's not careless. He does tend to - what was that?"

A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at he sky - and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so _wild_ - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.

"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got them, sir."

"No problems, were there?"

"No, sir - house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles stared swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol and she's bin' up the 'ole time."

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a babies.

One was a baby boy with a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lighting. On his right side was a baby girl with curls of brown – ish, red hair and a similar scar from her left eye towards the bottom of her ear.

"Is that where - ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "They'll have that scar forever."

"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well - give him here, Hagrid - we'd better get this over with."Dumbledore took Harry in his right arm and Scarlett in the other and turned toward the Dursley's house.

"Could I - could I say good-bye to them, sir?" asked Hagrid.

He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss and did the same to Scarlett. The baby girl lifted her chubby little arms, trying to hold on to his beard and making gurgling noises. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"

"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it - Lily an' James dead - an' poor little Harry and Scarlett off ter live with Muggles -"

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door.

He laid the infants gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two.

For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle, Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.

"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice,"I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall - Professor Dumbledore, sir."

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall, " said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.

Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver put-outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry and Scarlett" he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and the other around his sister has she drifted off. And they slept on, not knowing they were special, not knowing they were famous, not knowing they would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that they would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by their cousin Dudley... They couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry and Scarlett Potter - the children who lived!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Declaimer: Belongs to J. **

**CHAPTER TWO: A Trip to the Zoo  
**

Nearly ten years later...

Scarlett Potter laid awake in the small cot she shared with her twin. She was used to waking up early and enjoying the small amount of peace and quiet the house offered in the time.

For about ten years now they'd lived with their aunt, uncle and of course their precious son Dudley. But you'd never known that the Potter children lived in number four Privet Drive, for there was no photo's of them or room with their thing inside.

Because they slept in the cupboard under the stairs. Scarlett hated it there because it was stuffy and hard to breath, with spiders constantly crawling around.

"Up! Get up! Now!"Harry woke with a start as aunt rapped on the door.

Scarlett reached over Harry to the side table and grabbed the round glasses that laid there before handing them over to him.

"Time to get up Harry" she whispered quietly.

Harry slowly sat up and thanked his sister before she stood up and left their cupboard, knowing aunt Petunia would be back at any moment to yell at them again.

"Watch the eggs!" she barked as she passed by Scarlett to yell at Harry again.

Inside the kitchen the table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. Dudley's birthday – how could she have forgotten that was today?It looked as though Dudley had got the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike.

A minute later Harry walked into kitchen beside her and set off working on the bacon, while muttering to him self about there being no reason for Dudley having a racing bike.

Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody.

One thing about living with the Dursleys she hated – besides having to live in a small cupboard and being treated horribly – was that the Potter twins felt like they didn't belong. Even looking at them you could see that.

Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large, pink face, not muck neck, small, watery blue eyes and thick, blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel - Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

"Comb your hair!" barked Uncle Vernon as he waled into the kitchen, by way of a morning greeting.

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way - all over the place.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry and Scarlett had always been small and skinny for their age.

Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together by a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.

Meanwhile, Scarlett had long thick dark chestnut with some auburn mixed in, and dark blue eyes with flex of hazel. She was just as skinny as Harry but was much shorter, and rounder features.

One thing Harry and Scarlett shared in appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead and between her eye and ear which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. Harry liked it because it made him different from the Dursley's, but Scarlett hatted it and usually covered it with her hair. They had had it as long as they could remember and the first question Harry could ever remember asking their aunt was how they had got it.

"In the car crash when your parents died,"she had said. "and don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursley's.

Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother has Harry and Scarlett were placing the eggs and bacon on the table. Dudley, meanwhile was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."

"All right then, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible and Scarlett tried to make herself smaller in case Dudley turned the table over.

Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger too, because she said quickly,

"And we'll buy you another _two_ presents while we're out today. How's that popkin? _Two_ more presents. Is that all right?"

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work.

Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty ..."

"Thirty-nine" Whispered Scarlett from her spot slightly behind Harry.

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry, Scarlett and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote control air plane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt

Petunia came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry and Scarlett's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday his parents took him and a friend to, adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry and Scarlett were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away.

Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at all the cats she'd ever owned. Scarlett didn't mind it because it meant time away from the Dursley's.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry and Scarlett as though they'd planned this.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly Vernon, she hates them."

The Dursleys often spoke about the Potter twins like this, as though they weren't there - or rather, as though there was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend - Yvonne?"

"On holiday in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer.)

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"We won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave him in the car ..."

"That car's new, there not sitting in it alone ..."

Dudley began to cry loudly.

In fact he wasn't really crying, it had been years since he'd really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted..

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I ... don't ... want ... them ... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry and Scarlett a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang - "Oh, Good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically - and a moment later, Dudley's best friend Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother.

Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.

Half an hour later, Harry and Scarlett, who couldn't believe they're luck, were sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in they're lives.

They're aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they'd left,

Uncle Vernon had taken Harry and Scarlett aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's,

"I'm warning you now, boy, girl -any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly ..." while Scarlett nodded in agreement

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe them. No ever did.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Scarlett, the bank and Harry and Scarlett were just a few of his favourite subjects.

This morning, it was motorbikes. "... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorbike overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorbike," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beetroot with a moustache, "MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!"

Scarlett lowered herself in the seat and clutched Harry's arm in fear while Dudley and Piers snickered.

"I know they don't," said Harry while trying to calm his twin. "It was only a dream."

The day at the zoo turned out to be one of the best they'd ever had. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice-creams at the entrance and then,because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry and Scarlett what they'd wanted before they could hurry them away, they bought them a cheap lemon ice lolly. It wasn't bad either. They'd gotten to see a lot of cool animals including a gorilla that looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in here, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone.

Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car, and crushed it into a dustbin -but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

They moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. Scarlett looked up at Harry to see him looking sorrowfully towards the snake. Understanding what he was thinking she gently grabbed his hand and rested her head on his arm – not being tall enough to lay it on his shoulder.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were level with the Potter twin's.

It winked.

Scarlett froze and looked at Harry to see him look back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head towards Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling.

It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, has Scarlett laied her head back down slowly getting over the initial shock.

"It must be really annoying."The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Scarlett asked quietly.

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo.

"Oh, I see - so you've never been to Brazil?"As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry and Scarlett making both of them jump.

" DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling towards them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor landing on Scarlett painfully.

"Sorry" Harry said rolling off her.

"S'ok" she murmured wincing.

What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened - one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out on to the floor - people throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits the snake slid swiftly past the Potter twins, they could have sworn a low, hissing voice said,

" Brazil, here I come ... Thanksss, amigo and amiga."

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock."But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong sweet tea while he apologized over and over again.

Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg,while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death

But, worst of all, for the twins at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry and Scarlett were talking to it, weren't you?"

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry and Scarlett. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say,

"Go - cupboard - stay - no meals,"before he collapsed into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Harry and Scarlett laid in there dark cupboard much later, wishing they'd had a watch. They didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, they couldn't risk sneaking in to the kitchen for some food.

What would it be like to have parents wondered Scarlett. Someone who cared or listened or just loved them

Sometimes, when they'd strained their memory during long hours in their cupboard, they came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning in their scars.

This, they supposed, was the crash, though they couldn't imagine where the green light came from.

they couldn't remember their parents at all. Not even a face to put it to because there was no photos of then in the house and they were forbidden to ask questions.

Scarlett could feel longing burn throughout her and pushed back tears – she learned long ago not to show emotion or speak up because that only lead to punishment for disobeying.

No one at school would even be their friends. But why would they want to be friends with the odd ball Potter's in their baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.


End file.
